~ twenty nine ~

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     I stared down into the water of Penny Lake and the only thing looking back at me was my solemn reflection. No, i'm not looking forward to today whatsoever. The passed few days at school, Paul has ignored me or even has been passive aggressive to me and I don't know how we're gonna be okay with performing together tonight. The only other Beatle who has talked to me is Rich, which was expected as George couldn't really stand me to begin with. Now, he and Paul have got dirt on me to talk about.

     Out of frustration and worry, I picked up a rock that was burried in the sand next to me and I threw that thing across the lake. It bounced across the water a few times before plopping and sinking to the bottom.

     If only that were me. If only I could skip away from all my troubles and sink back into my own reality. A reality without anyone else but Paul and I. ...What am I even saying?

     I stood up from the damp shoreline and dusted my trousers off, I then straightened up my shirt. Checking my watch, I noticed it was nearly 5 o' clock and we are to go on in just an hour and a half. The other lads are probably already at the Café, practicing.

     It ain't right of me to keep them waiting, but who the fuck cares? They don't care about ol' Johnny Boy anymore. Over what? A mistake i've made?

     They should know that I never meant to hurt Macca, I only wanted him to myself. Can they blame me? Wouldn't they do the same? Why can't they just be understanding of me?

     Like I said, the only other Beatle who has attempted to talk to me is Richard. I think I could recall our conversation quite well, too.

     "John!" A light voice called out from behind me.

     I slammed my locker shut and turned around to face the boy, "What's up, Rich?" I asked, trying my best not to sound overexcited, being this is the first time any of my former friends have attempted to talk to me.

     "Ah, nothin' much. Everythin' alright wi' yerself?"

     I cleared my throat, "Eh. Ye know."

     "Yeah," Richard shoved his hands into his pockets, "Paul's still pretty upset, but he'll get over it, I'm sure."

     My eyes lit up a little, "Ye think so?"

     "Paulie's always been quite the drama queen, but ye didn't hear that from me." Richard whispered the last half of the sentence.

     I chuckled a littled, "Yeah, well, I hope yer right abou' that one."

     "He loves ye, John, trust me. Ye jus gotta wait 'till the right time to make things better." Richard smiled.

     My cheeks began to feel a little hot,

     He loves me!

     "Thanks, Rich. I'll see ye at the show tomorrow night."

     Richard began to walk away, "Seeya, John!"

     I snapped back into reality and checked my watch once again, "Ah, should be headin' back, shit!" I stood up and headed my way back home to pick up my guitar and everything else i'd need.

     My walk home to and from Penny Lake was the only peaceful thing i've subjected myself to in... quite awhile.

     How could I be peaceful without him?

     "Mimi!" I shouted the second I arrived at home.

     There was no reply. She must still be at work. No problem, i'll leave her a note to let her know where i'd be tonight. Because writing notes has always been such a good idea in the past!

     I headed down the hallway into my room and picked up my guitar that was still inside of it's case. With a nervous smile, I slung it over my neck and began to head to the Café by foot.


     The second I walked inside of that place, immediately, I saw George, Paul and Richard preparing everything on the little stage in the corner. Richard greeted me with a wave while the other two simply glared at me and whispered amongst eachother. Yeah, it hurts, but i'm quite used to this. I mean, I should be used to it after this drab week.

     "Which one we playin' first, lads?" I asked, attempting to break the silence.

     "Oh," George said kind of bitterly, "We decided to do Chains, Love Me Do, Anna, and then finishing off wi' I Saw Her Standing There."

     "Got it." I replied rather quickly.

     I looked over at Paul who was sat on the edge of the stage, tuning his guitar facing away from me. All I want to do is sit next to him and wrap my arm around his torso. Just to let him know everything's okay. I want him to know just how apologetic I am.

      Let's face it. I could apologize to that boy 'till i'm blue in the face and he wouldn't accept me, even then.

     "Alright, lads!" Paul stood up, purposefully keeping his gaze far from mine, "Jus abou' ready?"

     "I am!" Richard stated.

     "I am as well. Whenever ye are, Paulie." George replied.

      "Been ready." I spoke up. Paul simply nodded in my direction as we got ready to perform.

     We breezed through our first two songs with little to no awkward tension, even though Paul and I would have to share a mic every once and a while. Paul was good at keeping his feelings to himself. He always has been.

     People in the audience who were sipping tea were quite pleased with our performance. After each song, they'd applaud and ofcourse, we'd thank them! Hearing the happy cheers of people made my chest feel less cold and hurt. It was nice to have some kind reaction to our art, you know?

     The entire time we were on that stage, I just wanted to be close to Paul. I wanted him to know everything is fine. That i'm here for him. But he knows that. He just doesn't care.

     "Everythin' alright?" Richard asked after our set was up.

     "Nope!" I made emphasis on the "p."

     Richard sighed, "Listen, John, I know things have been pretty awful lately, but-"

     The shouting of Paul spoke over Richard's advice, "Richie! Come here!"

     "Comin'!" Richard immediately replied, "I'll see ye 'round, John."

      He followed over to where Paul and George were sitting and helped himself to a cup of tea, leaving me by myself across the Café.

     Guess that's my queue to head home, then.

     I picked up my guitar and began to walk home with tears threatening to pour down the side of my face.

     Truly alone, I am. None of the others give a single fuck about me, only because Paul tells them not to. I'm so sick and tired of this goddamn feud! If this goes on another day, I may go bloody insane!

     "Mimi, I'm home!" I shouted as I shut the door behind me. My voice was cracking a bit under all the pressure of my thoughts.

     "Welcome home! Dinner's on the stove, if ye-" Mimi spoke until I silenced her by slamming my bedroom door behind me.

     I threw myself on to my bed and sank into my pillows, allowing myself to breakdown. I cried. I sobbed. I dry-heaved until I just couldn't anymore. Instead, I stared up at my ceiling and pondered how in the world I could make this right again.

Don't Pass Me By // MclennonWhere stories live. Discover now